One of the many things I have always been so grateful for in my adult life is the positive and supportive co-parenting relationship I have with my ex-husband, Jared, the father of my two children. This is beneficial not only for us, but for our daughters, who were raised with the comfort and security of knowing they have  two parents who love them unconditionally and who are willing and able to work together to impart wisdom, encouragement and positive values into their lives. This was especially evident to them today when Jared and I sat in the waiting room of the oral surgeon while our daughter Eva had her wisdom teeth extracted.

I call our parenting method  ”team parenting” and this is an example of  how our arrangement works for us. Several months ago Jared took Eva to her final orthodontist checkup where they do X-rays to see if your wisdom teeth are coming in. Sure enough they were. The orthodontist referred him to an oral surgeon and gave him the surgeon’s card. When Jared dropped Eva off at home, he came in the house and gave me the card and asked me to schedule the consultation, which I did. I took Eva to the first pre-surgery appointment and found out how much the extractions would cost, which I relayed to Jared via a phone call. I then scheduled the extractions to take place over winter break.

Today we sat in the waiting room together and when the procedure was over, we helped our groggy daughter out to the car.  As parents we worked together as a team because we communicate, which, thankfully, is not hard for us to do since we have such an amicable and friendly relationship. I know this may be a challenge for some divorced couples who don’t get along so well, but there is no excuse for a lack of some form of communication, whether it be by text or email, especially when it applies to the children’s medical care. Jared and I are able to get along so well because we respect each other for putting our children’s needs first. And because of that we all benefit.

I flew up to Portland on Friday to help Sophia pack up her dorm room, put some of her belongings in storage and lug the rest her stuff home in four large suitcases. We managed to accomplish this in under two hours, which gave us a a lot time to hang out in her empty dorm room eating the sandwiches and snacks I packed and reflect on her first year away from home in college. We talked about all kinds of things, but mostly about her academics and I couldn’t help but beam with pride at her continued intellectual growth and development this past year.

Paul was delayed in picking us up from the airport due to traffic. Since we had time to kill, I gave Sophia some money to buy a magazine thinking she would come back with a copy of People that I would surreptitiously read over her shoulder because I just love to hear all about those Kardashians (sarcasm). Instead, I was surprised to see her return with a copy of the Economist. As if reading my thoughts she explained, “I know, the Economist. It cost $7 bucks, but I just couldn’t bear to read one more thing about Khloe Kardashian’s baby weight. By the way, do you get the New York Times?”

Our college girl is home.

Below is an except to a follow up piece I wrote for Parent Society called My Gay Ex-Husband about why I think gay people can and do make good parents, and why I am in favor of same sex marriage. Although the original title was called, Do Gay People Make Good Parents?, I now think a more apt title would have been, Can Gay People Make Good Parents? because as one of my readers pointed out, it doesn’t really matter if you are gay or straight, you could be a great or lousy parent regardless of your sexual orientation.

When my oldest daughter turned 16, my ex-husband, “J” bought her a car. He asked me for a ride to the dealership so he could pay for it and pick it up. As I drove away from the parking lot, I glanced bank and watched him as he sat down at the salesman’s desk, pulled out his reading glasses from his pocket, put them on and took out his check book. I couldn’t help but think, “How dad-like.” Yes, my ex-husband has turned into his father. Aside from the divorce, this could be a modern Norman Rockwell story, an all-American rite of passage. Dad buys his daughter a car. What a guy. The difference here of course, for those of you not up to speed, is that my ex-husband is gay. Read more…

Below is an except of an article I wrote for Parent Society about how I coped when my ex-husband of 10 years came out of the closet as gay.

Do you remember when former New Jersey governor, James McGreevey, announced he was gay? I sure do. I recall smiling ruefully to myself when I heard people talking about the scandal and wondering, “How could his wife not know? Can you imagine being married to someone and not knowing he’s gay?” Yep, I can, because it happened to me. Read more…

Paul and I had a fabulous weekend in San Francisco. It started Friday afternoon around 3 when I got home from work and Paul already had the car  packed, including our bikes on the rack on the back of the car. He left my suitcase, opened on our bed, waiting for me to toss in the weekend’s essentials. I packed in about 10 minutes and we were outta there.

We drove up the coast and stopped in Pescadero at our usual pit stop, Arcangeli’s Market, where we purchased a bottle of local wine, artisanal goat cheese and Arcangeli’s signature artichoke bread. It was still warm. This is something we have been doing since we first met and the ritual of the routine always gives me a sense of comfort. I’m brimming with love for this man. He’s sooo romantic.

We arrived at South Beach Harbor at about 6, opened up the boat, noshed on our goodies and took a moonlit bike ride up the Embarcadero along the waterfront to the Ferry Plaza Building. It was so peaceful and relaxing. Paul and I love  boating, sailing, harbors, seaports and anything to do with water. We were in our element.

It was Fleet Week in San Francisco and the waterfront was loaded with sailors, in their pegged legged pants and white cupped caps. Paul couldn’t help but feel supreme pride in his son, Sam, who is currently in Naval basic training. I’m sure he imagined seeing him in uniform. I couldn’t help but feel that Paul’s nautical influence has rubbed off on his son, who was a seasoned sailor at a very young age.

The Blue Angels were in town so we biked over to North Beach to watch the show, which also included appearances by the Royal Canadian Snow Birds and the Stealth Bomber. The rest of the weekend was taken up with dinner with friends, lunch at  Ferry Plaza Seafood and quiet, romantic evenings alone. As I mentioned before, we are not going to have any trouble adjusting to an empty nest.

Last week, on the first official day of summer vacation I promised the girls I would take them to the mall in San Jose (a 40 minute drive from our house and a big event) and Eva was lurking around in the kitchen, leaning up against the wall wearing a long face. She had been this way pretty much all morning. So I asked her, (with my late mother channeling through me) “Are you going to mope all day?” She responded, sulkily, “What do you call moping?”

Well now there’s a question. So I wondered, “How exactly does one define the term, “moping.” So I looked it up and here’s what I found. The definition of moping is, “taking up time and space by wearing a bored, blank stare that annoys your mother and makes her crazy.”

OK. I made that one up. Here’s dictionary.com’s defintion. Let’s see how close I am.

verb, moped, mop·ing, noun

1.to be sunk in dejection or listless apathy; sulk; brood.

So I wasn’t that far off except there was no mention of the causes or reasons for said moping. School is out. Summer is here. I’m taking you shopping. You are going to Spain for a month. What is wrong with you?

It is a conundrum every parent of teens faces. Why are our children unhappy when they have everything in the world to be exctited and grateful for? Who knows?

Eva perked up later and I never did get to the bottom of her brooding. Perhaps it was anxiety leading up to her pending separation. I’ll never know. And you know what? Sometimes it’s best that way because the opposite is the child who tells you everything (while whining). I have one of those too.

It really warms my heart to see the genuine love and affection between my two girls, Sophia and Eva, and Paul’s daughter, Cheryl. There is definitely a very strong bond between them. For instance, last week I took all three girls to the drug store (stay tuned for my next post on condom buying research for health class) and while I was immersed in what I was shopping for, I looked over and saw Cheryl put her arms around Sophia. She needed a hug and Sophia complied and there they stood in Walgreens, embracing. It struck me as very dear. But the next story is even more special.

As I have mentioned previously, Sophia is going off to college in Portland, OR this fall and her dad, my ex, Jared, is planning to drive her and Eva up the coast on a road trip. (I will fly up separately.) He’s talking about renting a car one-way and possibly taking the train home. It should be a wonderful end of the summer trip and a great send off for Sophia. Both girls are lobblying their dad to take Cheryl too. As Sophia opined to me, “Cheryl really, really wants to come.”

After Sophia’s birthday party dinner Jared, Sophia, Eva and I were alone and talked about the planned trip. Both Sophia and Eva piped in, “Dad, can we pleeease bring Cheryl with us???”  I assured both girls that we would fine a way to make sure that Cheryl would be able to join them. The next day when I spoke to Jared on the phone he said he would be happy to include Cheryl in his plans. What a great dad!!! What a great guy!!! And what great sisters three girls are!!! The trip is going to be so much fun and something great to look forward to all summer.

Last Tuesday was Awards Night at Santa Cruz High. It is a time of celebration and commendation for the hard work and achievements of the senior class who is graduating in a few weeks and heading off to college in the fall. It is also when they award the scholarships. I beamed with pride as Sophia leaped onto the stage to receive hers from the Italian heritage foundation (my Italian mother would be so proud) and I watched with amazement and collective pride at the unbelievable accomplishments of my daughter’s classmates.

There was the recipient of the National Merit Scholarship, a young man who earlier in the year won the international (that’s right, #1 in the whole world) science fair for developing a new method for detecting breast cancer. And the math whiz/track star who got accepted to MIT, but decided to go to Brown instead.

I think the student who made the biggest and lasting impression, was the young man who was awarded several music scholarships. I had never met him, but I got a favorable feel-good vibe every time he bounded up on stage in his retro thin lapel-ed suit and orange high top sneakers to accept his awards. The music teacher, by way of introduction, described him as a passionate lover of music who played several musical instruments and performed in both the school band and orchestra.

Later, over French fries and cokes at the Santa Cruz Diner, when I remarked to Sophia about this young man’s obvious talents, she elaborated, “That’s not all, Mom. He was  also the star of the high school musical. Two weeks ago, on opening night, his mother, after a  10 year battle with breast cancer, died at 2:30 in the morning. And he still went on that night to perform.”

Wow. I still get chills went I think about him. And his mom. What she’s missing, and what a remarkable young man she raised. She would be so proud.

A few nights ago we were  sitting outside enjoying an outdoor fire when the conversation turned to camping. Cheryl has been dogging her father for years to take her on a backpacking trip where the two of them hike into the woods, pitch a tent and fish for dinner. Apparently this is something Eva has longed to do as well, so the two of them cornered Paul and made him promise to take them. They also made me promise that I would not go since they know I don’t enjoy camping and would whine and complain the whole time and they are right about that.

Once it was agreed and a date was set for a weekend in July, Cheryl and Eva got busy planning their trip. They pulled out all of our camping books to decide on a destination and made notes and lists in a designated “camping notebook”. The supplies included two tents: one for them and one for Paul, just in case he snores (or eats too many beans, if you know what I mean.)  It was a joy to watch their excitement. And a delight for me to know that my daughter Eva would beg her stepfather to take her somewhere and feel comfortable and safe with him.

Later I told Paul, “These girls are so excited you’d think you had given them the moon. You’ve given them something to live for.”

Paul and I attended the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk Clam Chowder Cook off today as tasters. It brought back a lot of memories for me because on this date six years ago, I entered as a contestant and won first prize. I remember the day very clearly. It  was February 26, 2005 and I had started off that year declaring it the “year of me.”  I had decided that I was going to venture out and do things I had never done before, things as a single mom I was basically doing alone. Like driving through the snow (which terrifies me) to take my girls skiing. And entering cooking contests just for the fun of it. All with the unspoken hope  that maybe I would meet someone.

The whole experience was extremely gratifying to me as I was flabbergasted by the overwhelming response to my chowder. My sister Jill worked the booth with me and gave me reports that the line at my booth was the longest, about 200 people deep. Amazing. When it was announced that I was the winner of the individual Manhattan Chowder I was both stunned and thrilled.

Tired and aching at the end of the day, I packed up my stove, table and tent and headed home. Alone. I was very satisfied with myself and yet something was missing. A month later I met Paul and I made him my chowder. He loved it. He was what was missing.

Here’s the winning recipe followed by some photos of my favorite booths today at the cook off.

Hot and Spicy Habanero Manhattan Clam Chowder

• ¼ to 1/3 cup (depending on taste) of Coeur D’Olives Habanero Infused Oil
• 1 onion chopped
• 2 celery stalks, chopped
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 bay leaf
• ½ tsp or 2 tsp fresh thyme, crumbled
• 8 ounces of clam juice or seafood stock
• 2 14-16 oz cans chopped stewed tomatoes
• 8 ounces tomato sauce
• 1 large russet potato or 3 small new potatoes (I used purple.) peeled and chopped
• 1 4 oz can diced green chilies
• 2 6 ½ can chopped clams

In a large pot, over medium heat, heat the habanero oil and sauté onions, garlic, celery, bay leaf and thyme. Cook until onions wilted, about 7 minutes. Add clam juice or stock, stewed tomatoes, tomato sauce, chilies and clams with their juice and bring to a gentle boil. Add potatoes and let simmer for about 45 minutes or until the potatoes are tender. Serve with crusty bread and a dark ale. Watch sea themed movies like Beaches and Jaws.